


my affection hath an unknown bottom

by Magali_Dragon



Series: all the world's a stage [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Actors, Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awards, Constant season 8 shade, F/M, Jon and Dany go to the golden globes because why not, No Plot/Plotless, Romantic Fluff, Targlings (ASoIaF), all the world's a stage universe, dany learns what Jonerys means, semi-meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22152094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magali_Dragon/pseuds/Magali_Dragon
Summary: Postall the world's a stagefic-- Jon and Dany return to Los Angeles for the Golden Globes, but Dany misses home.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Series: all the world's a stage [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594456
Comments: 34
Kudos: 281





	my affection hath an unknown bottom

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Meant to have this up yesterday, but the lead up to the Globes had me missing the Hollywood universe I created for Jon and Dany in _all the world's a stage._ Set post that fic, this is just a fun, fluffy, sexy little nothingness.
> 
> Also, constant shade being thrown at the ending of GoT because canon is nothing to me now. Dany's dress is Emilia's from the 2018 Globes and Jon's suit is Kit's from last night.
> 
> You don't really need to have read the first fic to read this one, but it might help to understand some of the allusions to the first fic.
> 
> Enjoy!

Dany was so tired; she absolutely hated these quick trips to Los Angeles, but since the alternative was being away from her children for longer than a few days, she tolerated them. She blinked a few times, not wanting to mess up her makeup, especially since Irri had just finished with her. She gazed across the room to her husband, scowling at how offensive it was to her that he had showered, ran his fingers through his damp locks, and tossed on a suit, and there he was all ready to go.

She on the other hand had been up since seven, doing a quick workout, getting her nails done, toes done, and hair styled. There had been a few back and forth, last minute decisions regarding her shoes, her clutch, and calls to other stylists to make sure there was no duplication with other nominees or presenters that evening. She thought it silly, but the alternative of accidentally dressing the same as another would warrant too much press. 

“Darling,” she called, as Irri puttered with some of the last-minute touch-ups, while Jhiqui fussed with the folds of the black Miu Miu couture gown. She opened her clutch, making sure she had necessary items—chapstick, compact, and her phone. “Car’s here I think, get your lazy arse over here so I can take some photos.”

Jon yawned, crawling off the couch where he’d been draped, a script he’d been working on tossed to the side with his red pen. “Missy hasn’t called.”

As if she had super-sonic hearing and omnipresent capabilities, Missandei popped her head into the house. “Car’s here,” she chimed. 

“I stand corrected.”

She laughed, taking her phone out and focusing it in selfie mode, making a face with him as he crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. “Alright, that’s for the kids.” A stolen glance at the clock told her that they might still be awake, especially since Viserys was watching them. A terrifying thought. “Let’s give them a call.”

“Alright on it.” Jon had his phone out, waiting as it ran a few times, finally an irritated voice answered. He didn’t wait for Viserys to complain or chide them or whatever it was her brother planned on saying. “Put my kids on.”

“Well fucking hello to you too.”

“Vis shut up, where are my children?” she demanded, punching the icon to switch the voicecall to Facetime. It rang a few times and she beamed, wide awake and any vestige of fatigue gone at the sight of her two boys peering over the screen, big eyes and the tops of their noses showing as they forced their faces to the phone. “Hello my loves!”

“Mai!” Robby shouted, his bright purple eyes lighting up. His twin, always the silent one, simply smiled, dark curls falling in his eyes. His twin pushed at him. “No Rhae, me.”

“No!” Rhae exclaimed.

“No to you both,” another voice called, their daughter shoving her face in between her brothers, smiling wide and pointing to the gaps in her top row of teeth. “Mai! Daddy! Look!”

“Oh wow,” she marveled, seeing two gaps that had not been there when she’d kissed her daughter goodbye earlier that week. She frowned, glancing sideways at Jon, who also was brooding over the new development. “Um, Lyella? When…when did those go missing?”

“Uncle Vis helped.”

 _Well damn._ “What do you mean he _helped_?” Jon wondered, rightfully so. He squinted. “And how much did he give you for them?”

“Fifty!”

“Fifty!” she yelped.

“He said the tooth fairy can’t be bothered to carry anything less than a fifty.”

 _Well that sounded like Vis._ “The fact that the _tooth fairy_ actually had cash is a miracle,” Jon mumbled. He cleared his throat. “We’re going to the awards and you all are going to bed, right?”

“Uncle Vis said we can stay up.”

“Yeah!” Robby chirped, Rhae nodding frantically beside him. Neither of them had any idea what was going on; they were both barely two, they just did whatever their big sister did. The same big sister, who was currently running her tongue over another tooth in her mouth, to Dany’s horror. 

She glanced at Jon, who cleared his throat loudly. “Lyella I’ll make you a deal.”

The disturbing aspect of their daughter was that she hung around far too much with her twisted uncle. The concept of a _deal_ perked her attention. “Yes?”

“No more teeth coming out and I’ll give you fifty pounds.”

“Hmm, I’ve got two more coming out.”

 _Gods she is good_ , Dany thought, arching a dark brow, turning to her husband, who had gotten them into this mess. She chuckled when Jon mulled it over, but she poked him in the side, knowing they had to get to the awards. “You keep those two in and I’ll not take your phone and iPad away from you, how about that?”

“Mummy!”

The protests fell on deaf ears with her. Viserys and Jon could be bargained with because they were weak and Lyella preyed upon their love for her, but Dany was made of stronger stuff. Since she now realized she would not get anywhere with her mother on negotiations, Lyella tried a different tactic, innocently folding her hands under her chin, violet eyes sparkling and her dark curls swept back from her face with glitter barettes. "Mummy, Uncle Vis says you aren't gonna' win cause' the script was bull shit and a two-year old wrote it." She frowned. "I did not know a two-year old could write? Rhae and Robby can't."

They really needed to have another _albeit pointless_ conversation with Viserys when they got back about what he could and could _not_ say in front of his niece and nephews. Jon chuckled, cocking his head slightly. "Well for once in your Uncle Vis's life I agree regarding the script, but your mother acted her _ass_ off."

She poked him. "Jon!" she hissed. They really were going to have children with the most foul mouths. Lyella already got in trouble twice that semester for cursing when things didn't go her away in school. Between Viserys and Jon's friend Tormund, her vocabulary was far too colorful for a seven-year old. She smiled politely, but arched her eyebrow in warning. "When I get back, we will have a conversation about pulling out your own teeth for money and your language."

"Fine," Lyella grumbled.

"And win or lose, it doesn't matter. These things do not matter in the grand scheme of things." To be honest, as much heart and soul she'd put into her role, she almost did not want a reminder of the terrible script she'd received and how she'd had a bait and switch pulled on her by two numbskull producers who thought they were being _subversive_. She was just glad that they did not get nominated for mini-series, so she would not have to sit with them. 

Missy popped her head back in. "We have to go, car is here!"

"So we'll be a little late," Jon mumbled. He really did not care for these things. They'd walk the carpet together, arm and arm, hand and hand, but he would stay off to the side while she did her quick little sound-byte interviews. He leaned back into the phone, pursing his lips. "Kiss for good luck for your Mum!”

"Good luck!" Lyella chirped while Robby and Rhae just made up something, almost licking the phone. She could hear Viserys shouting in the background not to get their _disgusting parasitic germs_ on the device. She grinned when Rhae smacked his mouth straight on the screen. 

Her heart clenched, wishing she was with them instead of in Los Angeles, but it would be over soon. They'd be back together in their big house in Scotland and she wouldn't leave them for months, save for a few short trips to London, where she could bring them with her. She blinked through tears— Irri was going to have an absolute _fit_ —waving bye to her precious angels. "I love you! Go to sleep and be good for your uncle!"

"Hey boys, go wipe your snot on his cashmere sweaters."

Viserys made a sound and said something in the background that she could not dare to repeat, eyes closing as she sighed, Jon laughing beside her, and the kids squealing and shouting 'Bad word Uncle Vis!' The twins were nothing if not their daddy's boys, so she suspected they would be wiping their snot on every surface of the pristine townhouse. 

They disconnected, her hand going to her heart, sighing. "Oh I miss them."

Jon wrapped his arm around her hips, his palm flat over her stomach, beneath the bow that rested under the deep 'v' of her strapless gown. The custom creation was barely held up with a bit of strategic boning in the bodice and some carefully placed boob tape. He kissed the juncture of her neck and shoulder, under her silver bob and above the Harry Winston necklace, a few million dollars of diamonds that had their own escort that evening. His breath was warm on her skin, sending the tiny hairs along her nape standing on end. 

She turned her head, eyes downcast, watching the way his fingers lightly pressed into the slight swell of her abdomen, a reminder that no matter how tight her garments or spandex she wore under them, her three children had left an indelible mark on her body. Something she would gladly and happily show off. She smiled, lip turned up, voice dropping. "Careful Jon Snow, don't start something you can't finish."

"Hmm, you know I don't do well with time pressure."

"I seem to recall you wrote me an entire novel in three days."

"That was different, I was trying to win you back."

She smiled again, lifting her head up just a bit, accepting the gentle kiss he laid on her lips. The reminder of their brief time apart still hurt her heart, but the knowledge that they'd overcome those issues, found each other again, and were happily married with their babies and all the trappings that her _boring_ and _domestic_ life entailed.

She would not change it for all the awards and money and fame in the world.

Jon nibbling at the curve of her shoulder, deftly checking his watch. "I think we've got some time for me to enjoy you before the rest of the world sees how sexy you are in this dress."

"You're a bad man." _And I am so going to get fired by Missandei_. If Missandei could fire her. She was her best friend as well as her publicist. She turned in his arms, tilting her head back when he tried to kiss her, wagging her finger and grinning cheekily. "Ah, ah, ah, don't mess up the makeup."

He grumbled, walking her backwards into the adjacent study, slamming the door with his foot when Irri ran out saying that Ellaria was going to kill her if she ruined the dress. Dany closed her eyes, sighing in happiness as he trailed kisses over her exposed collarbone and the swells of her breasts atop the strapless bodice. Her hands tangled in his hair—he could just fix it with another comb of his fingers— bracing herself back against the closed door as he ducked beneath the high slit of her skirt, cursing once he got underneath. "You alright down there," she murmured, her brow furrowing as her eyes clenched shut, a gasp heaving from her chest when she felt his tongue dart out to taste her. A shock went down her spine at his breath on her bare skin. "Oh Gods!"

"Fuck, you didn't tell me you were starkers."

The little black lace thong that she'd planned to wear was somewhere on the floor of her bedroom, tossed aside after Irri and Jhiqui zipped her into the gown. It was his little present for later but seemed like he would get it now. "All for you," she sighed, his warm lips trailing across the inner skin of her thigh, lapping at what he found. 

They jumped when Missandei slammed her fist on the door. "Whatever it is you perverts are doing, hurry it up! We're going to be late!"

Her leg hooked over his shoulder to further brace herself, the six-inch platform heel digging into his shoulder. "Hurry it up Jon Snow," she groaned, the pressure building in her lower stomach, craving the release before they left. She didn't even care if they all knew what was going on in the study. 

True to his word, he made fast work of her, knowing exactly what she wanted and where. It was still somehow never perfunctory, never just a quick fuck or mess around, because each and every time she felt like it was the first, he always managed to keep her guessing with what he’d do next. Her eyes rolled back into her head, his fingers joining the fray after a few moments, and she made a mental note to make it up to him once they got home.

“Oh fuck Jon,” she exclaimed, pressing closer to him, his mouth never stopping. She vibrated in place, a silent scream hitting her as her eyes slammed shut against the sudden climax. 

The urge to slump to the floor in a pile was so intense, she did fall a little, her knees buckling, only held up by the hand around her hips and her stilt-like heels. Her eyes fluttered open, peering lovingly and dopey down at her husband, who was smiling up at her with his own lazy and dopey expression. Her thumb dragged over his lower lip and kissed it, sucking lightly on the digit. The aftershocks still pulsing through her intensified, neck arching at the simulation to her thumb what he'd just done to her. 

He was about to say something, mouth opening, when this time the door rattled, Missandei barking like a drill sergeant. "I swear to all the gods above that nothing will stop me from kicking down this door! I don't even care what you're doing in there!" She paused. "Okay, I care, my eyes will be closed!"

"I'm coming!" she shouted, banging her hand back on the door, giggling. 

Her husband waggled his eyebrows, his dark humor showing. "You were coming, you already came."

Her cheeks flushed deeper. "Gods Jon you can't say those things. I will have you on the floor."

"So what's stopping you?"

Missandei rattled the doorknob again. "Hurry up!"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pecking his nose. The bright red lipstick she wore left a little smudge and she was half-tempted to leave it, he was so cute with his riotous curls framing his face. In deference to the many articles that would likely be written about him having lipstick on his nose if she did leave it, she rubbed it off with her index finger. "She's stopping me." 

"Good point." 

They escaped the study, her hand lifting when Missandei opened her mouth to complain again. "I know, I know! Blame Jon."

"Why is it always me?"

Missandei followed them out, smacking his fine arse with her portfolio folder. "Because you're the pervy one."

Dany giggled gleefully that Jon had somehow developed the reputation as the pervy one in the relationship when in fact it was really her. He sunk low in his seat, scowling at her. She pursed her lips in an exaggerated kiss. "I'll make it up to you."

"Oh you are making up so much to me."

She stole a quick kiss; she'd touch up her lipstick before they left the car. "And I will enjoy every moment of it."

~/~/~/~

"Dany! Over here!"

The calls of the fans in the stands above the press stalls drew her attention and she peered up, smiling wide and waving, which garnered her even more calls. She kept her arm around Jon, his hand warm on her hip as they stood in the marked place before the Golden Globes signs. She stole a sideways look at him, her smile widening at his sullen, smoldering look. He didn't even _try_ to look sexy, it just happened naturally. He really had zero idea what he was doing not only to her but most of the female—and probably male—population. 

She leaned in, whispering. "You look like Batman in your all black suit." If anyone asked him the label, he’d blink and have no idea, but she’d made sure the Yves Saint Laurent silk shirt and tuxedo was to his liking, cut perfectly to his figure. He hated wearing ties, so it was simply buttoned up to his neck, giving him an even more debonair vibe.

He cracked a brief smile, which had more flashbulbs blinding them in the bright LA sun. It was like a unicorn shot for the press, Jon Snow smiling. "You know black is my color."

"Oh I certainly do." They were all wearing black as a coordinated effort among many of the presenters and nominees that evening, to support pay equality in the film industry. It was disgusting that even to that day they were still fighting for equal representation. Jon had a natural habit of writing for anyone, so he was all for it. His last play had only one male actor and it wasn't even a lead role, but one of the children. 

She let go of him, following Missandei's guidance to take a few steps over by herself, hands on her hips as she posed, kicking her foot out slightly to show a bit of toned leg, must mostly to show her platform heels. They were absolutely _killing_ her feet but she did not want to be peering up at everyone all evening. She already had to do that even with the heels but at least her neck wouldn't be sore from staring at everyone like she was a damn child. Curse her tiny frame sometimes.

Jon was never far from her when they had to be together, which she appreciated. They were in this together, always had been. He leaned in and brushed a kiss to the shell of her ear, garnering more attention from the photographers and cheers from the fans, a rare display of public affection. She wrinkled her nose, smiling wide, appreciating it. "Have I told you that you're radiant tonight?"

"Well I think your little gift before we left was proof of that."

He grinned, wolfish. His teeth snapped at her. "I love you."

"I love you too," she murmured, knocking her forehead against his temple, their little way of showing their love without outright kissing in front of everyone. They took a few more steps to the side and she let go of him as he walked off to join Missandei, while she approached the stall for Renly's show. 

Renly threw his free hand out to reach for her, his other holding onto his microphone. "Daenerys Targaryen! Gods above, you are absolutely _stunning_! Quite a way to say goodbye to your character in _The Steel Throne_ , I must say, brilliant mini-series although I was absolutely devastated by the end, you couldn't have possibly seen it coming?"

 _Here we go._ She kept a smile on her face, trying to maintain graciousness to the producers for the opportunity while simultaneously letting it be known she was disappointed in what they'd done to a character she had thought had so much potential. "I just am grateful that as a mini-series it was able to wrap things up without dragging it along and I was so pleased that the reaction was devastation, I just am so happy that my fans came out in support of me after the finale aired," she said, nodding along with Renly. 

"So I think it is safe to say we won't see you playing one of those types of characters for a while, huh?" Renly chuckled.

She knew he was trying to get her to say she wouldn't work with the production team again. She chose her words carefully, laughing at his effort and arching her eyebrows knowingly. "Well Renly I am an actress and I am lucky enough that at this point in my career I choose roles that bring me fulfillment and joy, so I will make sure that moving forward the scripts ultimately reflect what I choose to spend my time on, especially since it takes me way from my children."

"Oh yes, your lovely children, are they watching?"

"Well I told them to go to bed and since they're seven and two and all the way in London, I sincerely hope they are asleep," she laughed. _Doubtful, Viserys probably didn't even know what time they should go to bed._

Renly laughed. "And your husband is here this evening?"

"Yes, he's lurking somewhere, he's quite shy."

"I've heard that he's got some interesting dancing moves." 

She laughed, knowing this might come up since Loras Tyrell had been in the last movie Jon wrote and had been doing the press tour for it, talking about all the dancing and celebrating at the various wrap parties. "Oh yes, he does have some interesting dance moves."

"Care to elaborate?" Renly chuckled.

"Well he calls it the shoulder dance and it is just a _little_ bit poncey."

"Poncey!" Renly burst into laughter. He turned to the camera. "For those not from across the pond, it's a bit like _douchey._ "

"Oh that's such a strong word!" She laughed though. It was an approved topic with Jon, his odd little dancing move, so she elaborated and even demonstrated, wiggling her shoulders. "And smolder, you have to smolder," she said, pursing her lips and furrowing her brow into a brood. She laughed, clapping her hands, always enjoying her time with Renly. "Gods he's going to _kill_ me!"

Renly continued laughing and gestured her towards the camera again. "Ladies and gentlemen, Daenerys Targaryen, nominee tonight for Lead Actress in a Miniseries or TV Movie, congratulations on the nomination Daenerys and we look forward to seeing if you win tonight, but win or lose, your Queen of Dragons was a beautiful character and I hope we see more where you _don't_ die a subversive death."

"Me too!" she exclaimed hugging and kissing him. "Tata, bye!" She waved and turned, Missandei helping her step off the dais. She walked over to where Jon was waiting in the center of the throng, shrugging at his scowl. "Hey, he asked."

"You owe me."

She pecked a quick kiss to his lips. "I'll make it up to you my little poncey dancer."

Missandei rolled her eyes. "Careful you guys, we don't need to explain why you got arrested for indecency on the red carpet. Next up Baelish."

"Oh do I have to?" she complained. He was going to be an absolute prick. 

"Not really, but it'll give you a good opportunity to throw him some zingers."

She grumbled, walking ahead. "Fine." 

Jon leaned into her ear, chuckling. "I've got something for you if you step on his foot in those heels."

Dany didn't even know how she would go about doing it, nor did she care what she'd get in response. "You're on."

~/~/~/~

"How did you do it?"

Dany waltzed away from the booth where Baelish was trying to transition to his interview of Jennifer Aniston, but also seek attention for his injured foot, which had a nice wide Jimmy Choo platform heel imprint in it. She accepted Jon's arm around her waist, walking over to the next press stop, which had been her request. It was a favor to Davos, who had taken custody of little Shireen Baratheon after the youngest had declared emancipation from her rather insane mother and surly somewhat cruel father. Shireen had received a writing scholarship with a teen website and was afforded a great opportunity to cover the event, probably helped along by Davos's phone calls. 

She knew what it would mean to the young girl who she'd met briefly when she'd accompanied Davos on the set of a few of Jon's movies, so she sidestepped ET and E!News and all the others, moving towards the pool of written press reporters, spotting Shireen almost immediately, as she would be exactly where Davos said she would be. "I'll meet you inside," she said to Jon, who nodded, slipping off to take his seat inside the Beverly Hilton.

Shireen blushed hard when she approached. "Ms. Targaryen," she said, rather formally. "Thank you so much for speaking with me."

"Oh please darling, call me Dany."

The other reporters gaped, wondering why this youngster managed to get Daenerys Targaryen to stop and speak with her. Shireen turned beet red. "Of course Ms...D-D-Dany."

She beamed. _To be young again._ "So what questions do you have for me? I am an open book!"

"I wanted to talk to you about your charity for foster children," Shireen began. She launched into a detailed question about the government support for such charities, even highlighting the testimony that Dany had provided to the US Congress regarding the demand for more funding for children who are too old to be adopted but too young to be set free to the world. 

They spoke for a few minutes about it, along with the work she was doing on addiction, particularly alcoholism, the only citation she'd give for why it was so important being that someone close to her almost died from it. Many believed she meant Rhaegar, not realizing it was Jon who had almost succumbed to the demons at the bottom of a bottle. She was very proud and impressed with the girl, who was asking questions that were bigger and greater than any reporter she'd encountered. 

"And one last question," Shireen said, pinking up again. She ducked her head, giggling. "I wanted to ask, do you know what your fans call you and your husband?"

Her eyes rolled sideways, laughing. "Gods do I want to know?" She was actually curious. It was a teen website, so who knew what the kids these days thought of her and Jon. They were an old, boring married couple, why would they be interested? "Should I be worried?"

"Oh no! You see we just had a poll for the hottest celebrity couple, and you beat out many big-name stars! Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow!" Shireen smiled. She giggled again, more comfortable now. "We call you _Jonerys_! See? Jon and Daenerys."

"Oh my gosh! Well I am truly flattered, believe me, we're just as normal as any other husband and wife can be I suppose." She winked at Shireen. "In fact, have Davos give me a call, I'll get you an interview with Jon Snow about his latest writing project."

Shireen's eyes widened to half-dollar size. "Oh! That would be wonderful!"

"Well _Jonerys_ has to get going, but it was a pleasure speaking with you Shireen." She leaned in and kissed the girl's scarred cheek, which she knew came from an accident stemming from her mother's devotion to some sort of fire god. The girl giggled. She waved her fingers, ignoring the demands by the others for an interview, hurrying with Missandei. She smiled at her friend. "Did you know we're called Jonerys?"

"I did, I thought I told you? There's people all over Instagram who 'ship' you two."

"That's kind of entertaining. They do know we're married and have three children, right? There’s not much more to ‘ship.’"

Missandei grinned, shrugging. "I don't think it matters. You both are already getting quite the buzz for sexiest and best dressed couple of the night. Kudos to your husband and his constant brooding." 

She rolled her eyes at the image on Missy's phone from the Globe's Instagram account, a photo of them already up and gaining likes by the minute. She realized she hadn't uploaded one thanking her stylist crew like she usually did, so she reminded Missandei to go ahead and post one from the photo she'd collected on her phone of the 'glam squad' process. She withdrew her phone and found the silly picture she'd taken with Jon, making sure to send it to Viserys for the children— if she sent it to Lyella's phone it might wake her up. 

They entered the hotel, were seen to the table, which as the _Loner Throner_ she was sharing with a few really high-profile celebrities including Nicole Kidman, Meryl Streep, and Olenna Tyrell. She spotted Jon, who was beside the greatest actress of all time and barely was paying her any attention. _This man I swear_ , she thought, shaking her head in semi-disbelief. She sat down beside him, nudging him. "Hey wolfie."

"Hey dragon." He showed her a text from Arya. "We're sexy tonight she says, with a gross face of course."

"Of course." She zoomed her phone in of him taking a sip of water. "Look grumpy."

"That's not hard for him," Olenna commented across the table, garnering a tittering of sycophantic laughter. She rolled her eyes. "It wasn't even that funny!"

Jon gave her a broody look and she turned the camera on them both, getting the stage in the background. She quickly uploaded it to Instagram, with her usual multi-word hashtags. **#goldenglobeswehere! #jonisnotimpressed #datenight #viserysonbabysittingduty #can'tbreatheinthisdress** She hit a few emoticons, including the champagne bottle, laughing face, and film reel.

She leaned into his shoulder, as the lights dimmed, most everyone now in their seats and the awards set to begin. Whatever happened, she honestly did not care, but she was glad she was there with him. She watched out of the corner of his eye as he nudged aside the glass of wine that had already been poured for his place setting, moving the other glass of sparkling water closer to him. _You’re doing so well_ , she thought, always worried that these events would be too much for him, but he had maintained his sobriety through a hell of a lot more over the years than a simple awards show.

She squeezed his hand under the tablecloth, fingers sliding together, their most familiar location when they were seated next to each other. Whether it was at an awards show or on a plane or even at home lying in bed, she was never not holding his hand. Sometimes she didn't know if it was to assure her that he was there or to assure him she was there. 

Maybe it was a bit of both.

He leaned in from behind her and said something as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "So the plan goes like this, you win, we get out of here, I take you home, adult things happen, you agree?"

She barely had to turn her head, grinning. "Oh fuck yeah."

~/~/~/~

As he promised, adult things happened.

 _Many_ adult things happened.

She lay in a tangle in the sheets of their bed, sighing contentedly as her new Golden Globe winked cheekily across the room from its position on the windowsill. She'd barely managed to get it there before Jon had swiftly removed her of her gown—he'd been watching them put it on her and was able to find the hidden zippers and hooks—so clever he was! It really didn't matter to her if she won or lost but winning for something that she'd worked so hard on and two dolts had worked so hard to destroy seemed both bittersweet and also sweet revenge.

Harry Winston's security detail did not have much time to remove the necklace, earrings, and ring before Jon kicked them off the property, although she had been slightly disappointed that she hadn't been able to show him what she looked like wearing _just_ diamonds. 

Maybe when they got back home and had some time, she'd take a gander in the safe back at Viserys's house and see what all was there. If she remembered there was an old diamond and ruby tiara that allegedly belonged to their ancestor a queen of Westeros. 

"What time is it?" Jon mumbled into her side. He was somewhere beneath the covers, her poor husband exhausted from his exertions during the night. He hadn't even _tried_ to move up to join her at the head of the bed, choosing to just stay nuzzled around her hips. It was his preferred location anyway. 

She peeked beneath the duvet, seeing his tousle of dark hair as his arm slung over her thighs. "No idea. I think I owed you for what you did for me before we left, are you pleased?"

The strangled sound in his throat must have been a _yes_. She chuckled, reaching under to lift his limp arm, studying the Philippe Patek watch she'd gotten him for his last birthday. It matched the one he'd gotten her for her birthday. Missy often said they were gross because they were _that_ couple with matching items, but she wouldn't have it any other way. "Uh...I think it's early enough to call."

That woke up him. He climbed out of bed and she took a moment to savor the sight of his plump, perfect, naked arse before he tugged a pair of loose black sweatpants over it. He smirked, whipping his t-shirt towards her. "Might want to wash your face, you'll scare the children."

"Huh?" She bounded out of bed and took a look at her face, yelping. "Gods Jon! What did you do to me?" The makeup that Irri had carefully applied was smeared over her eyes, cheeks, lips, and chin. She reached for a cloth from the shelf and wet it, beginning to dab at her eyes. "I look like a clown."

"A beautiful clown."

"Clowns are horrifying."

He nodded in agreement. "True. Hurry up, I'm calling."

In record time she had dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of yoga pants, thrown her hair into a loose braid, and scrubbed the makeup from her face. She looked down at her yoga pants, sighing when she realized there was a peanut butter stain. "I thought these were clean," she complained, rubbing her palm on it. "Didn't I ask you to put in a few pairs from the bureau when we were packing?"

"Oh I thought you meant the closet."

"Damnit Jon those were dirty!" _Ugh_. She dragged the iPad from him, hitting the button and waiting impatiently as it rang several times. Viserys, who didn't sleep, had already texted her through the evening, gloating as if he was the one who had won a Golden Globe, saying he had already sent all the positive articles over to Dumb and Dumber. She got up, climbing over him to snag her award, wondering what was taking so long. 

The screen switched over, her brother’s face appearing. He looked haggard, dark circles under his pale lavender eyes. “Thank fuck it’s you,” he cursed. He waved to something off screen. “Here! Stop bothering me!” Something off screen moved and he cursed again, shouting down at the unseen being. “That hurt! Why are you biting me?”

They both exchanged a look, curious at who had started biting. “I think it’s Rhae,” Jon said.

“Really?”

Rhae’s little face popped up and he waved. “Hi!” That was probably all they were going to get out of their little silent wolf. He giggled and moved to the side, his twin appearing and waving, chattering about Ghost and something to do with waffles and Viserys not making a face right.

Lyella appeared. “Vis won’t tell me!” she shrieked. “Did you win Momma?”

“I did!” she laughed, showing her award. She grinned at Lyella’s shriek, the twins not sure what was so exciting, but waving their hands anyway. Ghost was in the background, the wolf slinking off, probably to find a quieter location. _Good luck_ , she thought. She wiggled the statue with its globe, pointing to the plaque on the bottom. “See? It says my name Daenerys Targaryen.”

“Not Daenerys Snow?”

Jon nudged her with his forehead, smirking. “I keep telling her to change her name, but she doesn’t. She’s crazy like that, Lyella.”

“Daenerys Targaryen is what I use when I’m working, but yes Daenerys Snow is my real name,” she explained. She set the award aside, folding her arms and smiling at her daughter’s flushed cheeks and bright violet eyes. She missed her so much, it was almost debilitating. “We’re going to be leaving tomorrow sweetness, I promise we’ll be home to read you a story.”

“You’ll read to me tonight too?”

“Absolutely,” Jon said.

Lyella nodded smartly, still smiling. “Momma, did you say thank you to me when you won? Uncle Vis says you didn’t.”

“Uncle Vis is a…” Jon began, but at her eyebrow arch of warning, he sighed. “Nevermind.”

“Of course I did, your uncle didn’t get a thank you. That’s why he’s jealous of you.”

“You promise you’ll be home soon?” Lyella asked, her sweet face dropping. A frown crossed her brow. It was the same brooding look of her father, it appeared to be genetic. “I want to go back to Scotland. And to my room and I want you to read to me. Both of you.”

Her heart ached. They would be in the air in a minute if she had her way, but unfortunately they could only get out on the most direct flight the following morning. She blinked through tears. “I promise we will be home soon.”

“Promise,” Jon chimed.

Lyella nodded. “Okay.” 

After several more minutes of talking about everything that happened since their last conversation, including how Viserys told her a stupid bedtime story, Robby and Rhae got peanut butter all over the new couch, and Ghost shed on some expensive rug that no one could quite understand how old it really was—Lyella had the right line of questioning since it seemed to have multiple ages depending on how angry Viserys was—and finally saying how Viserys gave up on changing Robby and Rhae’s diapers and now they were just running around without pants, they finally lost Lyella’s interest. They’d long ago lost the twins’ interest and sure enough Dany confirmed they were running around without pants.

They disconnected with promises to speak soon, Jon turning to her and echoing her thoughts. “Your brother is never babysitting them again.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’ll put diapers on them when they pee on his fancy rug.” She rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. A moment later Jon leaned over her, lightly dropping a kiss to her lips. She smiled, her fingers beginning to run through his hair, tangling it further. “I love you.”

“I love you too, but I’m going to fix your award.” 

“Oh?”

“Hmm.” He climbed off the bed, snagging the statue and left. She remained in place, too tired from staying up late dancing at the afterparty and from all their _adult activities_ when they’d gotten home. She wiggled her bare toes, getting feeling back into them after walking and dancing for so long in her massive heels. The bed sagged slightly, just as she was about to drift off, the award set atop her chest. She opened one eye and saw that he’d taped something to the base of it. 

She sat up on her elbow, looking at it, reading his scribbling handwriting, tears trickling down her cheeks. _This man always seems to know the way to my heart_ , she thought, her thumb running over the little note. 

_**Best Mother and Wife in All the World—and Actress Too** _

Whenever she thought they were spending too much time from the kids or she wasn’t giving him enough time, he did things like this to remind her what he thought. She turned into him, her arm wrapping around his neck, pulling him atop her, even in her dirty sweats and stringy hair and still streaky made-up face. “I love you so much Jon Snow,” she mumbled against his mouth. 

He smiled, nose lightly brushing hers, whispering. “You can be the best dressed, the best actress, whatever they say, but to me, you’re just the best.”

“You and your pretty words,” she teased.

He wiggled his brows, kissing her again. After another moment, he broke away, grinning. “That’s why you married me, right?”

“Oh yes, that and many, many other things,” she teased. 

Jon glanced over at the floor where her dress was crumpled with his suit. He smiled again. “Wanna’ put it back on?”

“And engage in your under my skirt kink? Fuck yes, but first put the suit back on.” She wiggled her eyebrows this time, voice husky as she leaned back into him. “I have a Batman thing I want to indulge in.”

“Yes ma’am.”

**fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)


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